Colliding Destinies
by Bohemian Anne
Summary: A crossover between Titanic and The Nanny, in which Jack is engaged to Fran and Rose is engaged to Max.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

_April 10, 1912_

As Jack Dawson boarded the Titanic, walking with his fiancée, Fran Fine, he thought he could never feel any better than he did at that moment. Jack didn't care if they were third class passengers. He had the love of his life with him, and this was the grandest ship in the world. He hadn't been in America in for over two years, and that was far too long. He hadn't even been back to his hometown since he was fifteen years old, and to him those first four years after his parents had died had been the longest of his life. Then he had met Fran.

_June, 1911_

Jack had just finished a day of drawing portraits in the park. He had only had three customers that day, so he was feeling slightly depressed. He walked into the café he went to almost every day for coffee. The manager, Richard, saw him walk in.

"Hey, Jack. Want your regular?"

"Yeah, Rich. You know me. Just black."

As Richard was getting Jack's coffee, Jack saw the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life. Instead of sitting at his normal table, he walked over and introduced himself.

"Hi. I came in and I couldn't help but notice you over here. I'm Jack Dawson."

"Well, Mr. Dawson, you are quite the charmer, aren't you?" She laughed, introducing herself. "I'm Fran Fine."

Their relationship had flourished in the next few months, and Jack had proposed in March. He had saved up enough money to buy third class tickets on Titanic as a wedding gift. Both desperately wanted to be back in America. Europe was great, but America was home.

XXXXX

Jack held Fran's hand as they made their way through the ship looking for their cabin, wondering who else would be sharing the room with them, since there were four people per third class room. They got to their room and walked in. When Jack saw the people who would be sharing the room with them, he was astounded. Here, standing in front of him, was the man who had been his companion through most of Europe. Until he had met Fran, at least.

Fabrizio de Rossi turned around as he heard the door being opened, and he was overjoyed to see his friend Jack Dawson standing there.

"Jack! I had no idea you would be here!" Jack noticed that Fabrizio's Italian accent had faded somewhat since the last time they had seen each other.

"Fabri, I can't believe it's you! I almost thought I would never see you again."

"You see, Jack, you were wrong once again. When you left Paris with the girl I told you we would meet again. Just like I said I would go to America. Just never thought they would be together."

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you, Fabri. So, who's this guy?" Jack asked, indicating the other man standing in the room.

"Tommy Ryan," the man introduced himself, speaking in a strong Irish accent.

"Listen, Jack. Tommy and I are going to the third class general room to meet some of the other people here. Do you and Fran want to come with us?"

"You wanna go, Fran?" Jack asked her.

"Sounds fun. Just let me put my bag up, okay?" Tommy and Fabrizio both involuntarily flinched at the nasal sound of Fran's voice.

Fran put her things on the bed above Jack's. She really didn't mind this lifestyle very much, but she still wasn't completely accustomed to it. Just before she and Jack had met, Fran had run away from home. In reality she was the sole heir to one of the wealthiest families in New York. She had never told Jack about that, and all she could do was hope her family was not on the ship.


	2. Chapter 2

**COLLIDING DESTINIES  
Chapter Two**

_April 10, 1912_

A shiny new Daimler-Benz pulled up to the dock, horn honking, followed quickly by a Renault. People moved aside as the cars approached, some muttering in annoyance.

A moment later, a door on the Daimler-Benz opened and a gloved hand was extended. The car's driver took the hand to help the young lady out of the car.

Rose Hockley emerged from the car, turning and lifting her head to survey the ship from under her enormous purple hat. A man, perhaps twenty years older than the girl, stepped out of the car and came to stand beside her.

Rose turned to look at her fiancé, Maxwell Sheffield, before turning back to the ship. At that moment, another couple emerged from the second car and came to stand beside them.

Caledon and Ruth Hockley gazed at the ship from beside their daughter and her fiancé. Rose turned to her father, her face set in an expression of disdain.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about. It doesn't look any bigger than the Mauritania."

Cal looked at her in exasperation. "You can be blasé about some things, Rose, but not about Titanic. She's over a hundred feet longer than the Mauritania, and far more luxurious." He turned to his wife. "She's your daughter, Ruth."

Ruth laughed lightly, suspecting that Rose's attitude towards the ship came more from her father's constant bragging about it than from any real disdain. One would think that he had built it himself, rather than just being part-owner of the company that had contributed a great deal of the steel to the ship.

She looked at it again, laying a mollifying hand on her husband's arm. "So, this is the ship they say is unsinkable."

Cal could still not resist bragging. "It is unsinkable. God Himself could not sink this ship…" He turned in annoyance as the porter who had been trying to get his attention since he had gotten out of the car tapped him on the shoulder. "What?"

"You need to check your baggage through the main terminal, sir."

Cal sighed, digging into his pocket and pulling out a five-pound note. He handed it to the porter. "If you will kindly see my man about it…" He gestured to his valet, Spicer Lovejoy.

The porter's eyes widened at the tip. "Oh, yes, sir! If I can do anything at all, sir!"

Lovejoy grabbed him by the shoulder, directing him to a truck that had pulled up behind the two cars. "All the trunks from there, and there…" He pointed to the trunks fastened to the back of the Renault. "…and the safe…to rooms B-52, 53, and 54."

The porter's eyes widened again, this time in dismay at the enormous piles of trunks and boxes. He blew on his whistle, calling for assistance.

"Niles." Max gestured to Lovejoy and the overwhelmed porter, indicating that he should assist them. Then he looked at his fiancée. "Shall we?"

Rose nodded, linking her arm with his and following her parents towards the boarding ramp. She rolled her eyes slightly at her father, who was still singing the ship's praises. "They should have hired him to do publicity," she whispered to Max.

Max smothered a laugh as Cal turned back and looked at his daughter. "Are you coming, sweetpea?"

Rose sighed. "Yes, Father, I'm coming." She glanced back at Trudy, the maid who had assisted both herself and her mother on this trip. "Trudy, my coat?"

"It's right here, Miss."

Rose nodded, turning forward again, her arm still linked with Max's as they started up the boarding ramp, her mind going over the engagement trip to Europe they were completing with the voyage aboard the Titanic.

Rose and Max had met a year ago at a gala to celebrate the opening of his latest Broadway production. Neither Cal nor Ruth were great patrons of the theater, but Rose adored it, so they frequently indulged her by taking trips into New York to see the latest Broadway shows.

Rose loved everything about the theater—the lights, the music, the actors on the stage, the costumes, the thrilling dramas and light-hearted comedies. More than anything, she longed to be a part of that world herself, but her parents had put their feet down, forbidding her under any circumstances from going onstage or even working behind the scenes. Well-brought-up young ladies did not go on the stage, nor did they engage in the manual labor necessary to support the actors. Rose could watch, but taking part was forbidden.

Nevertheless, Rose had been thrilled to meet a Broadway producer. Maxwell Sheffield was well-to-do, if not quite a part of their class. He understood Rose's fascination with the theater far better than her parents ever had, willingly discussing with her all the different aspects of putting a show on. Rose had hinted that she would like to take part in a production, but he had been unwilling to go so far as to put her on the stage.

In spite of the fact that Max was not quite of the same status as them, Rose's parents had seen how much she liked him and had encouraged the match when Max began courting her. Though Max was forty years old, a widower with three children—older, in fact, than Cal, who was only thirty-six—they had approved of the relationship, and when Max had asked for Rose's hand in marriage, Cal had granted it.

Now, however, Rose was beginning to have second thoughts. She liked Max very much, but she was beginning to realize that she cared for him more as a friend than as a potential husband. They had a great deal in common—but was it enough to base a marriage on?

Rose had met Max's children when they had been home from boarding school. His eldest daughter, Maggie, was only two years younger than Rose, and seemed intimidated by her outgoing soon-to-be stepmother. The other two children, Brighton and Grace, had been more accepting, but Rose was beginning to realize that she didn't feel ready to be their stepmother.

Max, too, was having second thoughts about the marriage, though he hadn't said anything to Rose. He loved her, but he also realized that she was very young and full of dreams about what she wanted to do with her life—and she wanted far more out of life than being a wife, mother, and society lady. Though he brushed aside her hints that she wanted to be onstage, he wasn't as blind to her dreams as she thought. He often suspected that she would rather be the star of his show than the lady of his house.

He had hoped to talk these things over with her on this trip, but no opportunity had presented itself. He realized, though, that any decisions would have to be made soon—the wedding was only a little over two months away, scheduled for June twelfth.


	3. Chapter 3

**COLLIDING DESTINIES  
Chapter Three**

The ship's whistle blew, warning everyone that it was about to depart. In the third class common room, Jack closed his portfolio, abandoning the drawing he was working on, and took Fran's arm.

"I'm gonna go watch the ship depart," he told her. "Wanna come?"

"Sure," she responded, taking his proffered hand and getting to her feet.

Jack looked around for Fabrizio and Tommy. "Hey, guys, we're gonna watch the ship leave. Wanna come with us?"

A few minutes later, the four of them were standing near the railing on the third class deck, facing the docks and watching the crowds waving as the ship began to move. Jack and Fabrizio pushed to the front of the crowd and leaned over the railing, shouting and waving.

"Good-bye!" Jack shouted. "Good-bye!"

"You know somebody?" Fabrizio asked.

"No. That's not the point!" Jack made eye contact with a little boy who was watching the departing ship with big eyes. "Bye! I'll miss you!"

Caught up in the game, Fabrizio added, "Good-bye! I will never forget you!"

They both chuckled as the boy grinned and waved back.

Tommy and Fran hung back, Tommy staring at them with a combination of amusement and confusion, while Fran ducked down slightly, hoping no one on the crowded docks would see her and recognize her.

"Who are you leaving behind?" Tommy asked her, noticing her reticence.

"No one. Jack just likes to say good-bye to every place we leave. He did the same thing on the way over from France."

"Why aren't you—" Tommy started to ask, but at that moment there was a commotion from the bow of the ship. They rushed to the railing, trying to see what was going on.

Fran took Jack's arm, forgetting her desire to hide in her curiosity over the commotion. "What happened?"

"The Titanic almost hit another ship." Jack pointed towards where several tugboats were pulling a much smaller ship out of the way. The Titanic's enormous wake had pulled the S.S. New York from its mooring and the two ships had nearly collided.

The four of them moved forward, trying to get a better look. Around them, people shouted and jostled for a better position from which to view the near-collision. Some voices expressed worry, while others spoke reassuringly, reminding everyone that the Titanic was unsinkable.

"The Titanic might be unsinkable, but that other ship ain't," Tommy pointed out to the others. "It's a good thing they didn't hit."

"It does 'a show that the Titanic is 'a unsinkable," Fabrizio told him, nodding with approval.

Fran watched as the Titanic slid past the other ship, disaster averted. She frowned slightly, listening to the people around her rejoicing in the fact that the ship they were on couldn't sink.

"That doesn't prove it's unsinkable," she told Jack.

He raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, it didn't actually hit the other ship. How do we know it wouldn't have sunk if it had?"

"Oh, come on, Fran. You've seen all the newspapers. Why would they say it was unsinkable if it wasn't?"

"Because the White Star Line paid them to?"

"Why would the White Star Line—" Jack stopped, realizing what Fran was getting at. "You're right, but I don't think we have anything to worry about. What could stop a ship this size?"

"I hope we don't find out."


End file.
